


One Night Standards

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Series: One Night at a Time [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Reader-Insert, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Y/n hasn’t seen the Winchesters in two and a half years. A lot has changed for the boys since she saw them in Elizabethville, but a lot has changed for her, too.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“So…been…a long while.”He scoffs and nods. “Few years…some literal Hell…End of the world…”“But we’re both peachy,” I challenge.“Yes, we are. Like you said, we don’t have the luxury to be anything but.”We sit in silence for a minute. Used to be, I’d fill the lull with flirting. Dean would flirt back, then shoot me down when someone else caught his eye. Neither of us have the energy for that dance tonight.I reach into my left back pocket and pull out the extra room key. “318.” I slide the card across the bar and Dean lays his hand over it without looking at me. I pay for the drinks and leave.If he doesn’t show up, fine. I haven’t been fucked in a very long time so it’s not a big deal to keep the celibacy streak going.If he does show, though, I’m not hoping for anything. I just need to be touched by hands that aren’t trying to hurt me. It’s been too long.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/You
Series: One Night at a Time [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647841
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	One Night Standards

**Author’s Note** : This goes with For Tonight and No Delusions. It’s now a series (because I have no self-control) called One Night at a Time. This entry was inspired by the song One Night Standards by Ashley McBryde (listen to it, omg!)

**Story Warnings: 18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!** , light Dom/sub themes, oral (fem rec), unprotected sex, mentions of harm to reader, scars

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You know, I didn’t used to spend so much time in bars. Except the Roadhouse but that was less about the drinks and more about being around other hunters. Not that they really wanted to be around me. People don’t like me.

That should have been the biggest red flag for Marco. A handsome man, without a bit of sleaze on him, liked being around me. He told me I was beautiful and interesting and I should have tossed holy water in his face the moment he uttered those words, but I let him catch me off guard.

Well, that’s a lesson I won’t forget anytime soon…no matter how much time I spend in bars trying to forget.

The bell over the door dings and I turn to look at the newcomers. Two giants in plaid flannel walk in and I sigh as I recognize the Winchester brothers. Should I ignore them, hope they do the same?

“Y/n!” Sam calls out. Too late.

“Sam. Buy y’all a beer?” I offer, looking at the whiskey in front of me.

“I’ll take one-a those,” Dean tells the bartender, nodding at my glass as he and his brother sit on either side of me.

“What happened?” Sam asks and I know he’s talking about my face.

“Demon,” I answer, and the scars burn with phantom pain. “Coulda been worse. Almost lost the eye.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” Sam says, full of empathy that I shrug off.

“It’s not like I was winning any beauty pageants before Marco got ahold of me, Sam. Besides, it’s a conversation piece, right?” I polish off the last of my drink as the bartender sets new ones in front of us. “Everyone always asks about it,” I say bitterly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

I wave it off. “It’s fine. I don’t have the luxury to be sensitive about it, Sam. Hunters can’t…” I shake my head. “So what have you boys been up to?”

I know what they’ve been up to, of course. Hunters, we gossip like schoolgirls when we get together. Death and resurrection, Hell and Heaven, Lucifer rising and setting off the End…and Sam and Dean right in the middle of it all.

“Oh, uh, ju-just our normal, ya know, hunting stuff,” Sam says, blushing.

I chuckle. “Wow, you are a _really_ bad liar. How do you function on hunts?” I ask and he laughs.

“I’m better on hunts,” he assures me.

“If you don’t wanna talk about the Apocalypse, that’s cool. I’m sure you guys have to talk End Times a lot lately.”

“We’re gonna stop him. We’re gonna stop Lucifer,” Sam says, pickin up his beer.

Dean hasn’t said anything since his drink order. I turn to look at him. Fuck. Why is he so fucking handsome? “You good, Dean?”

He turns his head and flashes a fake smile. “Just peachy, cowgirl,” he says and winks before taking a drink.

The blood that rushes to my face makes my scar hurt. Sam clears his throat and excuses himself to the bathroom. “So…been…a long while.”

He scoffs and nods. “Few years…some literal Hell…End of the world…”

“But we’re both peachy,” I challenge.

“Yes, we are. Like you said, we don’t have the luxury to be anything but.”

We sit in silence for a minute. Used to be, I’d fill the lull with flirting. Dean would flirt back, then shoot me down when someone else caught his eye. Neither of us have the energy for that dance tonight.

I reach into my left back pocket and pull out the extra room key. “318.” I slide the card across the bar and Dean lays his hand over it without looking at me. I pay for the drinks and leave.

If he doesn’t show up, fine. I haven’t been fucked in a very long time so it’s not a big deal to keep the celibacy streak going.

If he does show, though, I’m not hoping for anything. I just need to be touched by hands that aren’t trying to hurt me. It’s been too long.

I toss my boots in a corner and pull my bra off through my shirt sleeve. I turn the TV on to something for background noise and sit at the table with my bottle of bourbon. One day the liquor will wash away the memory of my scars, but that’s not today.

Doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop trying.

The door opens twenty minutes into my drink. Dean raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t get enough at the bar?”

“That was for socialization. _This_ is for numbing,” I say, standing. I set the bottle on the table and approach him.

“You sure you wanna do this? Last time, it was-”

“Don’t. Come on. Just…I need this. Please,” I whisper. “Last time, you needed it. This time…please, Dean.” I try not to beg, but I know it’s coming out that way.

Dean grabs my head and leans his down, pulling me into a kiss that makes my head swim…or maybe the whiskey’s doing that. I grab at his clothes. I need to feel him.

He walks me backward until the back of my knees hit the bed, his lips only leaving mine long enough for us to pull our shirts off over our heads. His hands go to my breasts, his lips return to mine.

He pushes me to the mattress and I kick my pants off as he places kisses along my skin. He avoids the thick pink mark down the middle of my chest and a flash of rage goes through me. Where does he get off having such pristine fucking skin? Why does he only wear his damage on his soul?

He makes it to my underwear and licks at my pussy through the fabric a few times before pulling it to the side and sucking my clit between his lips. “Fuck, Dean!” I reach down to grab at his hair, but he slaps my hand away.

“Hands off, woman.” He looks up at me. “Tonight you’re mine and you’re gonna take what I give you.”

I suppose that’s fair.

I wrap my hands in the sheets instead, closing my eyes tight and biting my lip. His tongue works my clit as his finger starts probing at my entrance. The tip of his tongue swirls around my clit and I whine. He starts pumping his finger in and out of me, torturously slow, and his lips move away from my clit to press kisses along my inner thigh. “Oh, fuck. Dean, fuck,” I gasp out.

“God, you sound so fuckin’ pretty,” he praises and I turn my head, hiding the scar that I know is the furthest thing from pretty. He keeps up his hand movements, kissing my skin. He gets a second finger in and curls them in just the right way and I gasp, my back arching slightly. “Gimme more than that, Y/n. I know how loud you can be.”

“Make me,” I snap.

He sits back and raises his eyebrows at me. “‘Scuse me?”

“Said ‘Make me’, Dean,” I respond. I’m not just gonna give him what he wants. He needs to take it. I need him to take it.

He scoffs and shakes his head, dragging his hand up my body, rough fingertips scratching along my skin until he tucks it up against my jaw. “Let me be perfectly clear here, sweetheart. You are not in charge tonight. And if you wanna act like a brat, I’m gonna treat you like one.”

“How’s a brat get treated?” I whisper.

He smirks and flexes his fingers across my neck. “Well, first off, brats don’t get to cum…and I get the feeling you really _need_ to cum. Just ain’t the same when it’s your own fingers working you open, is it?” I whimper as his words send a zing of arousal through me. “Oh, getting louder already, aren’t you?”

He lets go of my neck and kicks his pants off, sucking hard on my nipples as he pulls the denim off of his muscular legs. He switches sides as he places himself between my thighs and lines up. “Oh, fuck,” I moan as he slides in all at once, his cock stretching me open perfectly. He kisses my neck and shoulder as he holds himself still inside me. I can feel his heartbeat pulsing in his cock and I need- “Dean, fuck, please, fuck me, please, move, godpleasemove,” I babble.

“Can’t get you to shut up now,” he mumbles into my shoulder before scraping his teeth across my skin. I cry out, clench around him which makes him groan and his hand fists in the sheet next to my head. “Be. Patient.”

Patient. Be patient. Take a big deep breath and be patient while he’s licking the salt from my skin and making me shiver. Patient. Be patient.

“There we go,” he whispers, going up on his forearms and leaning down to kiss me. “That’s a good girl,” he says against my lips as he starts rocking against me, the base of his cock grinding into my clit.

He doesn’t move fast, doesn’t go hard, there’s nothing desperate or fierce in the way he moves and he doesn’t let my desperation boil over into him. He distracts me with his tongue in my mouth as his cock moves in and out of me. It’s not the rough, harsh, punishing fuck I was hoping for when I slid him the key, but it’s fucking working, isn’t it?

His hands are on me, but they aren’t bruising. His teeth are on me, but they aren’t digging in. His cock is stretching me, but it’s not ramming into my cervix in a way I’ll feel for days. He’s just being what I need…not what I wanted.

“You ready to cum, Y/n?” he whispers, pulling back and looking down at me with those gorgeous green eyes.

‘Yes’ should be an automatic answer, but I’m suddenly struck with the desire to keep it going. I don’t want it to be over now…because this is nothing. It means nothing. It’s just us using each other. It’s how this works. This isn’t romance. There’s no king bed covered in roses. It’s just a room without a view and that’s all it’s ever gonna be, but I want to hold on to it. I want to keep the moment a little longer.

“I got’chu, baby,” he whispers, dropping his hand between our bodies and rubbing his thumb in circles over my clit. It doesn’t take long before I’m shouting out my orgasm on his name, whimpering as I clench around him. He pulls out and cums across my belly, breathing heavily. He licks his lips, staring down at me for a few minutes before he rolls backward off the mattress and grabs a washcloth from the bathroom. He cleans me up and tosses the rag to the carpet before climbing into bed with me. He pulls me against his side, tucks me under his arm. He runs his hand up and down my arm as our collective breathing slows and deepens. “Did you get him?”

I look up at him, confused. “Who?”

“The demon. Marco.” I look down, focus on his navel. “Did you send his ass back to Hell?”

“No.” My throat tries to close around the word, but I get it out. “He got away.”

“How’d that happen?” he asks, quietly.

“He thought I was dead.” I close my eyes, take a deep breath to steady myself. “He carved me up like a turkey and left because he thought I was gone. I might _have_ been. But I woke up…because some fuckin’ _demon_ isn’t gonna send me on before I’m fuckin’ done here.”

I will not cry. I will not cry over this. I will not cry in front of Dean Winchester.

“You lookin’ for him?”

“No,” I lie. I don’t want him to try to talk me out of it. I don’t want to hear about how revenge-obsession ruined his father’s life, ruined his and Sam’s childhood. It’s different for me. It’s not like I have any family or loved ones to ruin or leave behind.

“Okay,” he says quietly, holding me just a bit tighter. “Get some sleep, kid.”

I cuddle closer to him and slowly fall asleep.

I wake before him. He looks so peaceful. He must be having good dreams. Good for him. I dress quietly, grab my duffel, give him one last look before I slip out of the motel room.


End file.
